Page 24 of When Hearts Unravel (The Orchid #6)

Laura

Sorry, the authorities couldn’t locate your camera. They said the trail’s cold.

My chest caves at the text from the concierge. It’s been almost a week since our phone call and the initial shock at the events in Pyrgos Village has passed. People finally stopped finger pointing and whispering whenever I stepped into a room.

Thank God.

From what I’ve read online, it appears to be a botched robbery.

More importantly, the press, which I’m sure, courtesy of the Anderson family’s influence, is quick to point out the autopsy of the motorcyclist showed the bullet killed the man.

Not Rex. And his violence that day was self-defense. No charges.

Relief flooded my body like ice water on a scorching day when I read the articles. I didn’t want to care about the devil, one of the worst, most uncooperative patients I’ve ever had in my career.

But I do.

I still remember his weight on top of mine, his piercing eyes frantic as he checked my body for bullet wounds.

I still hear his furtive rasp when I asked him why he pummeled the assailant to a pulp. To this day, I question my sanity or if he really said those words.

“He hurt you. I’ll kill anyone who hurts you.”

Disappointed in myself for thinking of him so much, I step into the opulent Bistro La Mer on deck seven, where most of the restaurants and lounges are located. Perhaps a nice strong latte at a table with a sea view will wake me up.

“Welcome back, Dr. Lin. Do you want your usual seat on the patio?” A tall blond I haven’t seen before smiles at me.

As I’m about to answer her, my eyes skate over the restaurant, noting the seafoam green walls, the plush pastel pink seating, the overcast skies outside the French doors, before snagging on an occupied table in the corner.

In particular, a stunning brunette sitting by herself, staring morosely out the windows.

Bree.

“Dr. Lin?” The receptionist cocks her head.

“S-Sorry.” I force out a chuckle. “Six in the morning, not quite awake yet. But I see my friend.”

I thank the hostess and walk toward Bree, not knowing what’s gotten into me.

I’m interested in Bree because she knows Rex. She can tell me more about him. She can give me insight into how to get through to him.

Yes. That has to be it.

“Liar, liar,” Mia taunts, and I quash her voice away.

Exhaling deeply, I crack the joints in my neck before stopping in front of Bree. She’s so lost in thoughts, she doesn’t even see me there.

In this proximity, I see what makeup can’t hide—dark circles and bags under her eyes, her short brown hair sticking out on the side, like she didn’t bother to brush it this morning. She’s wearing an oversized gray sweatshirt, but she still looks cold.

And lonely.

Something about her sadness speaks to me. Tells me there’s more than meets the eye.

“Is this seat taken?” I ask softly.

She jolts, her eyes flaring in panic before softening when she realizes it’s me. “D-Dr. Lin, sorry. I was thinking about things.” She grimaces and waves at the empty chair in front of her. “Please have a seat.”

I nod and do as she says.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” I say when a waitress stops by and takes my order.

“No, no… Of course not. I…I’d been thinking about reaching out to you, but then I’d run away before I got to your office.”

My Spidey sense tingles. She isn’t looking at me, but is staring at her nails, and I notice they’re clipped very short, no nail polish, the cuticles dry and ragged.

She’s fidgety. Nervous.

Something is definitely off.

“I guess it’s good I ran into you today, then.” A server quietly sets down my latte before slipping away. I take a sip, watching Bree grimace and chew her fingernails. “Something on your mind?”

“How do you deal with grief?” The chewing stops, and her eyes snap up to mine.

I falter, surprised at this random topic.

Then my heart twists at her question. I know the textbook answers—the professional advice I should give her: take it a day at a time, progress is a few steps forward and a step back, grief ebbs and flows and there’s no right or wrong way to deal with it—but something holds me back from saying them.

Maybe because she isn’t my patient. Maybe because I want to be vulnerable so she can confide in me.

Maybe because I don’t really know the answers myself.

“It’s death by a thousand cuts, I suppose.” I set my cup down. “I don’t think anyone truly knows how to deal with it. We just make do and hope the pain lessens over time and, hopefully one day, it’ll be a dull ache.”

A telltale spasm behind my rib cage flares.

It’s been twelve years for me, and the pain is still there.

Laughing softly, I murmur, “I probably shouldn’t be saying that as a doctor. Should be more hopeful, right?”

Bree smiles. “No. I appreciate the honesty. It’s refreshing.”

“Is everything okay? Sorry, I can’t help but wonder if your question has anything to do with…” my voice trails off, my mouth seemingly can’t form his name.

The man you say you’re not involved with and yet are touchy-feely with in public. The man who apparently fucks like a king and drags out orgasms from his partners so he could fall asleep because he has chronic insomnia.

My stomach churns. The contradictions in their behavior. The vibe is off. They’re close, but now that I think about it, I’ve never even seen Rex kiss her on the lips before. I don’t think they’re intimate like that.

I bite my cheek. Ugh. Stop it, Olivia. Their sleeping status has nothing to do with you.

Bree furrows her brows like she’s confused, but then her eyes widen. “Rex? Oh, this has nothing to do with him. He’s…fine.”

Fine? I force myself to remain still. Those Spidey senses are now church bells clanging in my head.

You don’t describe Rex Anderson as fine.

He’s maddening, hot as sin, smells like sex, has a voice that works better than any vibrator, a sense of humor you want to both strangle and appreciate, a brilliant mind you hope to unravel but have a feeling it’s an impossible task, the perfect height for you to climb—

I shake myself. “Sorry. I was assuming…since you’re here with him and we’re on the world’s most luxurious cruise, I just thought he was making you upset.”

“No, it’s nothing like that.” Bree looks around and then dips toward me. She drops her voice to a whisper. “I-I hear you’re close with the Andersons. And you’re a doctor, so you’re bound by…rules.”

Cocking my head to the side, I remain silent. Where’s she going with this?

“It really isn’t what it seems…Rex and me. I know I’ve mentioned it before, but it’s true. He’s not my type.”

Relief crashes through me and I force myself not to analyze why.

Bree blows out a heavy exhale, like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. “I don’t really know him that well.”

My mouth parts and I quickly snap it shut. Then what’s going on with their mixed signals? None of this makes sense.

So much for my intention of getting info from her about the infuriating asshole.

“It’s about the move…” She sighs, drawing my attention back to her. “I’m relocating. Leaving my life behind. I thought I could do it, but…I guess I’m sad.” Tears gather in her eyes.

Unwittingly, I reach out and clasp her hand. She squeezes me tight.

“Do you have to move? If you miss your old home so much?”

She swallows and looks down. “Yes. I made a commitment and I need to honor it. It’s the right thing to do.”

Her words are cryptic, and while I don’t understand what kind of commitment can force someone to leave a place they clearly love, I can understand the sentiment.

I’m on this cruise ship because of a commitment I made too.

“I’m sure this move wasn’t a decision you’ve made lightly. The fact you’re here, facing something you’re afraid of, tells me what type of person you are.”

Her watery eyes meet my gaze.

“You’re someone brave.” My nose prickles, my heart clenching as I think about my journey on this trip. “You’re someone who’ll live life no matter what it throws at you. And despite the grief, the fears…you’ll survive.”

I’ll survive.

Tears slide down her cheeks, and she quickly brushes them away. “Th-Thank you.” She squeezes my hand before letting go. “Geez, I feel much better already. Just saying it out loud.”

“You can always stop by my office if you ever want to chat. It helps to have someone to talk—”

“Surprise!” A soft scent of roses reaches my nose before a curvy brunette dressed in a chic tan sweater dress, hair tied in a ponytail, steps into view.

“Lana? Aren’t you arriving tonight?”

A dark scowl crosses her face. “I was supposed to, but the Shadow King said he was coming out here earlier. Then he took it upon himself to rearrange my flight plans and drag me onto the jet with him. The overbearing, mercurial bast—”

My eyes widen. I’ve never seen the graceful Lana get so worked up before. “Shadow King? Who is Shadow King?”

“You know, Eli—” She stops herself, finally noticing the wide-eyed Bree who’s staring at us with rapt interest. “Oh. Sorry. You guys are in the middle of breakfast. I’m clearly interrupting.

I’ve been awake for over twenty-four hours because instead of sleeping last night, I was on the damn jet, and I can’t sleep when flying. And—”

Lana blows out a breath and rearranges her lips into a bright smile.

“I’m Lana Anderson.” She extends her hand to Bree. “You’re Bree, Rex’s…friend. I’m the head of PR at Fleur, so I know everything there is to know about anything Anderson-related that might show up in magazines and newspapers.”

“Oh. Sorry if I’ve created more work for you.” Bree scrunches her nose.

“You’ve been an angel, compared to his past…ahem…exploits.” She shakes her head. “Ugh. I’m tired and look like crap.”

Lana yawns and I snicker. Only she can say she looks like crap and still moonlight as a cover model this very instant.

“I say we all have a girls’ day and try out the saltwater float garden. Oh! Or the quartz-crystal cleansing and infrared therapy. That’s just in at the spa on deck eight.” She grins. “I need some R and R before I hunt down my problematic brother. You gals in?”

“Maybe I’ll join you tonight. I’m sightseeing today. Dubrovnik.” I wave my phone, my gut pinching when I remember I don’t have my Leica anymore. “Work hard, play hard, as someone says. Can’t meet a hot man without going out.” I give a pointed look at Lana.

She huffs out a dry laugh. “Fine.” Then she turns to Bree. “What about you?”

“Uh…I guess so? I’m staying in.” Bree’s eyes widen, clearly bewildered and pleased at the same time. I know, girl, I know. Lana Anderson is a force of nature.

“Wonderful. I can ask you about my brother and why he went all serial killer apeshit in Pyrgos, because I tell you, that’s not Rex. Bullets come flying, he’d probably duck for cover. You must be the reason he’s a hero now. A good influence.”

Bree’s face pinkens and for a moment, the doubts I have about her relationship with Rex come roaring back. She said he’s not her type. Which begs me to ask, why does she seem so close to him? Why does he hold her like he would a lover?

Why do I have more questions and fewer answers now than I had before I sat down this morning?